Mistress Melanie Leaves Me Hanging

by Bob Salinas

Email Feedback | Forum Feedback

© Copyright 2005 - Bob Salinas - Used by permission

Storycodes: F/m; bond; cons; X

 Everybody has a fantasy, I suppose. Mine is to be helplessly bound before a beautiful dominant Mistress- usually a tall, blonde Nordic goddess type clad in a black leather cat suit. My favorite elaboration on this fantasy had me standing bolt upright in her dungeon- naked, of course (I mean, some sexy activity is usually a part of such fantasies), except for a multitude of leather straps that bound my arms to my sides. While I don’t have a tall, blonde Nordic goddess type clad in a black leather cat suit, I do have a marvelous friend named Melanie- a self-proclaimed slut.. She may not be a Helga, but she’s more than voluptuous enough, and she has enough sexual enthusiasm for the bedrooms of half the Danes in the country! 

After a long period of frustration and anticipation, I called my friend Melanie and talked to her about my fantasy- how I needed to be made completely helpless and how I needed a trusted friend to help me. While she’s not really into Dominance, she appreciates that I have an active fantasy life, and- flattered that I had chosen her to trust my life to- she agreed to play a part in my fantasy. We’ve been intimate for some time, and we’ve played a few games, like most modern couples. We had found out that Bondage & Discipline really isn’t her ‘cup of tea’. But in the spirit of friendly give and take, she’d tried both the Dominant and the submissive roles, and she had been good at both.

I’ve toyed with the idea of mummification, and Melanie even mummified me once, wrapping me from head to toe in Saran Wrap and then covering that with Duct Tape. I loved the feeling of incredibly tight all-over bondage, but both of us acknowledged that the utter inaccessibility of the mummy was very unsexual. She got nothing out of it except wrapping practice, and I got very excited while being wrapped, but the excitement faded away after an hour of so of being wrapped and untouchable. Well, except for the few moments when she unwrapped my mouth and sat on my helpless face, but that’s another story altogether. No, for this exercise I needed to be naked and accessible.

Late in the morning, Melanie drove up and let herself in- she’s had a key for some time, both as ‘girlfriend’ and as a possible ‘rescuer’ should one of my self-bondage scenes turn out to be so effective as to be inescapable! Melanie’s not the blonde Nordic goddess of my fantasies- she’s about 5’7”, brunette, and a bit on the ‘voluptuous’ side. But, as she puts it, some girls are great on posters and other girls are great in the dark! She’s definitely the second- her breasts are all-natural and second to none, her ass is a delight to see or touch or taste, and she’s so enthusiastic it’s hard to describe.

Melanie arrived dressed casually in- starting at the floor- black leather ankle boots with 2” heels (shorter than her usual), black stockings that almost made it to her blue denim miniskirt before they ended at garters that rose up under the skirt, and a white cotton blouse missing three top buttons which exposed the cleavage between two major-league breasts supported and enhanced by a Wonder-Bra. She looked like a slut, which is just how she likes it, and it was all I could do to resist taking her in my arms, pulling her to the floor, and taking her on the floor right inside the front door!

But both of us knew what was supposed to happen, and after an introductory embrace that lasted several minutes and left her panting and my erection aching, she pried my arms from her and led me into the kitchen to be fed. After our lusts had cooled, she led me downstairs to my own basement dungeon and watched as I stripped, making a few rude comments as I did so. Melanie actually enjoys my body, but she knows me well enough to realize that I love a certain amount of degradation!

I had explained what I wanted to do, but had added that she should feel free to modify my plans as she chose- I mean, did I have much choice? And in a few moments, what little choice I had was going to disappear! That thought alone restarted my erection. 

Melanie watched closely while I unrolled a long coil of 3/8” rope and wound a bra around my chest, over and under, crossing in my growing cleavage as my breasts developed and protruded. When I finished by holding the ends of the rope behind my back, she played with my tits for a bit, letting me savor my submissive helplessness, before she helped me out by tying the rope securely behind my back. Ohhh… as she tied the first knot, I got the familiar out-of-control feelings I love so much!

That done, Melanie watched as I sat on a folding chair; I picked up some leather straps I had piled beside the chair- pairs of straps riveted together- and locked my legs together, making sure my balls and especially my cock were not pinned between my thighs. (That seemed like a good idea at the time, but I was soon to have serious doubts about the wisdom of exposing my tender tools like that.) The first straps locked my ankles together, another went just below my knees, and the third went just above my knees. After I pulled the straps tight (not snug, but tight), I flexed a bit and verified that my lower legs were locked firmly against each other.

I reached out for my upper-body straps. The first wide and heavy leather strap went around my chest just below my rope bra and buckled in back; fastened to the strap at the sides were smaller straps which would lock to my arms just above the elbows. The second wide, heavy leather strap went around my waist and had a matching pair of straps which would be locked around my arms just below my elbows.  Third was a pair of wide, heavy leather straps, riveted together of course, which locked around my thighs just below my crotch. At the sides of these straps was a matching pair of straps which would lock around my wrists.

I pulled the straps secure around my thighs, my waist, and my chest. After making sure they were snug, I asked Melanie “Could you do my arms, please, Melanie? You know I can’t do that myself.” She walked over to me- “Gee, I hope I won’t have to do every-thing for you!” She checked the straps again and then buckled the straps around my upper arms and above my elbows; I squirmed a bit and demonstrated that my arms were firmly locked to my sides. Melanie moved my hands into position and buckled the straps around my wrists. Yes, I was now really armless! 

Finished, she pulled me to my feet and with a sly smile pressed my bound body to her. My tits rubbed against her chest, slightly above the swelling of her breasts, as she reached down for my ass cheeks. I reflexively reached around her only to be reminded that I couldn’t reach any more! I squirmed and determined basically that I had about as much ability to reach around her as a snake; my arms were firmly strapped full-length to my sides.

Melanie snickered at the frustrated expression on my face and returned me to the chair, where I sat on the leading edge leaning back. She leaned over me and pressed my face in the valley of her cleavage, letting me rub my face over the soft, warm flesh of her breasts. But just as I was getting seriously into her body, she pulled back and left me with my mouth open and empty.

Implementing an idea of her own, Melanie produced a nylon stocking and stretched the strip of nylon over both my feet. She then used a liberal length of Duct Tape to tape my feet together. As an unexpected innovation, after my feet were firmly locked together, she pointed my feet and toes downward and used Duct Tape liberally to lock them solidly in that awkward position. How do ballet dancers do it, I wondered? I realized that I could no longer stand upright because I didn’t have the use of my feet! Damn, I love my Mistress Melanie!

Another idea came up with on her own was the binding of my hands. When I’m playing my self-bondage games, about the most I can do is to handcuff myself, which is effective but lacks something. Melanie produced another pair of stockings and slipped them up over my hands, telling me to make fists. She wrapped the length of each stocking around my hand and then instructed me “Make fists, slave Bob”. I submissively made fists and waited patiently as she wrapped more Duct Tape around my nylon-covered fists, crushing my fingers to my palms. From that point on my fingers were useless!

As I felt the tape surrounding my hands, I went through the ‘moment of commitment’ panic and/or ecstasy: I knew that I was helpless, that I had released control over myself to Melanie. In a self-bondage exercise this moment could come when I hear the click-click-click of the handcuffs, the keys to which are frozen in a block of ice; or it might be when I step off a stool into suspension bondage, knowing that I can’t step back up and now gravity controls me. In my present situation, when the tape covered my fingers, I would from that moment on be utterly unable to release myself; I was powerless before my Mistress. She noticed my reaction- my erection throbbed at her. 

Ignoring her usual lusty urges (Melanie’s not one to ignore an erection, especially one pointed at her), she ignored the promise of my meat as she pulled over the other folding chair. Holding one end of a six-foot length of rope in one hand, she climbed up on the chair. When she put her foot up on the chair, one knee was right by my head, and I had a momentary view of the crotch of her panties beings swallowed by her pussy lips, all framed by the black of her stockings. Oh, my god… 

Heaven disappeared (thankfully, only for a moment) as she heaved herself up onto the chair. That chair was right next to the one on which I sat, leaning back, and of course I just had to stare up her little skirt at her full, rounded butt cheeks, outlined and exposed by her panties. Ohhh… my entire soul wanted so badly to grab her ass cheeks in my hands, but my arms were firmly strapped to my sides and I had no fingers. Even if I had been able to move my arms, the most I could have done would be to rub the back of my hand against her ass- most unsatisfactory!

Now this is one of many things I don’t understand about myself and./or the male psyche. I knew Melanie’s butt almost as well as I knew my own (like I said, we’ve been very, very intimate before), and I’d had my hands, my face, and my cock pressed up against her cheeks more than twice. Why does my cock get such a charge out of a surreptitious chance to peek up her skirt? Damfino, but my cock strained at the sight of her barely-covered ass cheeks! Melanie looked down at me and saw me looking up at her delights. Knowing I was helpless to do anything about it or with it, she smiled and continued on, allowing me only the chance to watch helplessly.

Mistress Melanie stretched up- presenting the most exquisite upskirt view ever- and threaded the rope through the ratchet, which was bolted to the exposed ceiling beam. (I used it often in my self-bondage games- with suspension, the law of gravity comes in very handy.) Being careful to let me watch as she moved- she loves being watched- she climbed down and tied the free end of the rope to the crossing of my rope bra. 

Ignoring my obvious frustration and eagerness, Mistress Melanie stepped to the closet, returning with a favorite pair of clover clamps. Oh, shit… she reached out and pinched my right breast between her fingers to make the nipple project out. With the other hand, she positioned the clamp and let it close; only a tiny bit of meat projected between the jaws of the clamp. My tits were already sensitive because of the rope bindings, and I groaned.

She ignored my discomfort- she knows that a severe bondage situation isn’t supposed to be comfortable- and continued to secure the second clamp on my left nipple; this burned just as much as the right. She released the chain connecting the two clamps (in a fit of over-enthusiastic lust, I had substituted a two-foot-long chain for the original six-inch connector), which at that point felt like it weighed eight pounds, and even tugged downward on it to ensure that the clamps were solidly attached. Clover clamps are designed to grip tighter with more tension, and I groaned to assure her that they were tight and secure. Mistress Melanie smiled happily.

After checking the rope attached to my rope bra to verify it was secure (she’s very good with knots), Mistress Melanie grabbed the hanging end and hauled in on it, using her weight to lift my body off the chair. The entire length of my body- not to mention my cock- was pretty much stiff due to my rigid bondage; first my shoulders left the back of the chair, then my ass left the seat, leaving me balanced between the rope and my one foot. Melanie continued to pull until I was upright, balanced on my useless toes. I felt each click of the ratchet as I lifted up, more and more upright. As she lifted me, the ropes of my bra tightened and the clamps bit harder. Finally, only my helpless toes touched the floor.

Mistress Melanie checked the straps to verify the immobility of my legs and my arms. I had been reduced to a six-foot-long length of helpless meat! I foolishly spoke to her: “Oh, Melanie… this is incredible… “ “Shut up, slave!”, she snapped. Surprised, I looked dumbly out at her as she produced my blow-up penis gag and stepped to me. She slipped it into my mouth (which for some reason I willingly opened for her), buckled its straps behind my head, and pumped its bulb. The penis grew within my mouth, first pressing my tongue down, then bulging my cheeks out, until any possibility of speech was completely taken away from me. {Mistress Melanie knew I always gag myself during my self-bondage games; not being able to cry out for help, even if there’s nobody to hear, makes me feel that much more powerless.)

Mistress Melanie then went to my closet/warehouse of implements (she’s been there before, of course) and brought out the mirrors. I watched submissively as she set up first one, then three, and finally all five, and I realized that she was planning on making me a spectacle of me for myself. Oh, shit… just what I enjoy so much!

Mistress Melanie next produced a bungee cord, knelt at my feet, and tied the cord to the ring bolted the cement floor of my dungeon. She caressed my balls gently for a moment before she stretched the cord and then tied it around my ball sack. When she released the cord, I felt it pulling sternly down, crushing my balls to the bottom of their sack, anchoring me firmly to the floor. I tried to tell her that it was too tight but she ignored my mumbled pleas. I don’t know if she understood me, but she ignored me.

I looked down at her over my heaped-up and clamped breasts. Her eyes brightened with an idea; she rose and again stepped to my closet. My heart sank and my cock rose as I saw her returning with… oh god, a butt plug! Was she doing to burden me with one of everything she could find? She had a tube of slippery stuff in her other hand and carefully coated the rubber instrument of horror. 

I looked closer and saw, with some concern, that she had selected one of my largest plugs- a rather new one that I hadn’t used on myself too often because it was too fat. Oh, shit… my head wondered whether this ‘consensual exchange of power’ was really such a great idea. “Hell, yes, of course it is!”, my cock responded.

I watched her in the mirrors as she knelt behind me. She gently but firmly inserted two slippery fingers up my ass, twisting them around to spread the lubricant over my innards. My cock reacted happily to the unexpected joy of penetration by a girl! Mistress Melanie looked up at me in the mirrors, holding my eyes as she held the plug up for my inspection and then pressed the plug up against my asshole. I tensed for a moment but then relaxed, and the plug slowly entered me.

Mistress Melanie slowly and relentlessly shoved upward the plug into me. The first penetration of my anxious ass caused a stirring in my bound balls and made my cock dance before her, drawing a smile of satisfaction to her painted lips. She continued to twist the intruder upward and inward, and I started to really feel the stretching of my tender asshole as the widest portion of the too-fat plug slipped farther into me. I was beginning to feel serious pain when the narrow neck of the plug finally reached my ass, and the bulk of the plug shot firmly home, deep into my bowels. The plug was pressing on something sensitive inside me, and my cock stretched desperately toward her. I stained against the straps pinning my arms against me and felt only helplessness. I wanted so badly to cum with her….

 “Well, slave, that just about completes the bondage you need so badly. Now comes the hard part- the waiting. Of course, I’ve had to wait all this time while I worked on you, so now it’s your turn to wait and watch while I work on me!” I watched helplessly (how else?) as she stood up and stepped back against the workbench. As I watched from my self-designed and deliberately helpless position, she leaned back and spread her legs, hoisting her denim miniskirt to her waist to revealing her skimpy black nylon panties. (Melanie firmly believes that her underwear, like her outerwear, should be selected to be seen.) She reached down and pulled the bit of cloth down around her knees, exposing the thick thatch of pubic hair between her soft, firm thighs. I could see the thick lips of her pussy, plump and eager.

“Don’t you wish you could get to this delightful meat now? Don’t you wish you could push your cock up into this hot, tight little pussy?”, she taunted me as she leaned back, spreading her thighs even further for my frustrated inspection. I watched as her fingers slipped down into her bush, opening her pussy lips. She lifted her hands to her face, licking her fingers, and slipped them into herself.

Entranced, I watched as her fingers dove into the haven I wanted so very badly to possess. But every attempt I made to even struggle against my bonds was useless. I had chosen implements that were too effective, and Mistress Melanie and I had applied them too well. I wasn’t going to touch her, touch myself, or touch anything until Mistress Melanie decided I would, and it looked like she wasn’t going to decide that for quite some time.

Locking her eyes to mine, Mistress Melanie reached back and picked up a dildo which just happened to be lying on the workbench. She slipped the dildo- thick black rubber, with prominent veins and impressive-looking bumpy studs down its extravagant length- into her mouth, liberally coating it with her saliva, and then lowered it between her wide-spread legs. My eyes twitched rapidly between her eyes and her twat as the thick slab of rubber drilled between her pussy lips and disappeared into her dripping cunt. My cock strained out at her- uselessly.

As she savored the penetration of the dildo, she continued to taunt me. “Oh my god that feels good… I wish you could be shoving your fat cock into me, you sick pervert… oh this fat thing feels so good as it plows into me… oh god!” She stroked vigorously, driving the dildo deep into herself. My cock ached for her, empathizing with the feeling of the studs stimulating her twat as the slippery mass of rubber drove in and out of her- but, bound as rigidly as I was, I couldn’t even wiggle, let alone do anything useful. She leaned back, maintaining eye contact with me as she spread her thighs wide. I gazed at the wanton spectacle of her pussy expanding and contracting over the ripples as she plunged the dildo deep into herself. My balls ached, and not just from the bungee cord.

Mistress Melanie dropped to her knees, only inches away from my cock. She pulled her knees together, pressing in on the dildo, as she wordlessly mouthed her ecstasy. “Oh, damn, this makes me feel so good…. I wish you could fuck me now… I’m so hot for you… Ooohhhh! Oooohhh!” 

She reached between my legs and grabbed the flared base of the plug which protruded from my vulnerable ass. As she stroked her pussy with the dildo with one hand, with the other she twisted the mass of rubber embedded in my bowels, alternately pushing it in and out with a stroking motion, then twisting it around with a swizzling motion. With each motion, my balls screamed for release.

Mistress Melanie smiled as she knelt before me. Then she started to fulfill my fantasies as she reached up to seize my ass cheeks in her hands and pulled me to her, sucking my fat, eager cock into her warm mouth. Her lips closed around my meat, and then her cheeks pressed against my shaft from the sides. I quickly responded to her expert oral action, and she sucked my heavy erection deep into her throat. She had shown me before that she knew how to suck cock- she took a deep breath, exhaled, and inhaled my cock until her face was pressed against my pubic hair.

Mistress Melanie fucked her face on my cock for a moment (bound as I was, I couldn’t fuck back) and then reached between my thighs to grab the base of the plug. Using it as a handle, she pulled forward, although I could only move an inch or so. Mainly she used it as leverage to move her head up and down on my straining erection! She took two deep breaths, exhaled and then inhaled deeply, sucking my cock down her throat. Her face bobbed up and down on my cock as she savored the feeling of the head of my cock drilling far into her.

I started to feel the first twinges of an orgasm, but Mistress Melanie had studied Dominance too well. She pulled on my ‘ass handle’; with one final slurp she sent the head of my cock ‘way down into her chest. In the same motion, she pushed back on the butt plug, and the head of my cock streaked out of her throat, out from her mouth, and dangled free in the air. Damn shit fuck piss damn!

As I hung there and felt the agony of my frustrated balls, Mistress Melanie let go of the plug and slipped one hand up under her shirt and her bra.  As she stretched the bra out and pushed it up, both her heavy breasts tumbled free. While one hand worked the dildo up into her greedy pussy, the other twisted her nipples. My cock strained out at her. While she worked her nipples between her fingers, my own nipples suffered from the clamps and the extra-heavy chain pulling down at them. Why the hell did I add the bigger chain?

Mistress Melanie released her nipple and slipped her free hand into her crotch, gently stroking her clit while the other hand continued to work the dildo in and out of her dripping-wet snatch. Bound as IShe groaned and grunted loudly; I groaned with her, pleading behind my gag to share her ecstasy with her. But she ignored my unintelligible pleas, and in a few long minutes the unmistakable squeals of a loud female orgasm echoed through the dungeon, followed by the ‘slap!’ of the wet dildo hitting the floor.

After taking a moment to collect her wits, Mistress Melanie stood up, smiled deviously, and reached up under her skirt- still crumpled up around her hips- and pulled down her panties- similarly still around her knees. She bent to pull them off and stepped over to me.

“I’ll leave you something to keep you mind on me while you’re waiting!” She stepped to me and lifted her arms; her breasts, still hanging and exposed under her bra, bobbled with the motion. She pulled her panties down over my head, positioning them carefully so the crotch lay over my nose. I took a deep whiff of her familiar female scent, strong and heady, and groaned aloud with my need for her. Mistress Melanie smiled and said “I hope that’ll be a reminder of what you’re missing, you sick pervert!”

Mistress Melanie made one quick trip around me, tugging and tweaking as she went, to verify that my bonds were both safe and secure- they were both- and walked out the door. The dungeon door, which I made myself to be secure-sounding, closed with a solid booming sound appropriate to a dungeon.

I wait for three or five hours for her to return… has she left me forever? That’s not part of my fantasy. I hang there, rigidly immobile and helpless. 

I wait, each labored breath filled with the scent from the panties. I think back, remembering how they were swallowed up by her fleshy pussy lips. 

I wait, looking out at my reflection in the mirrors. I savor the rigid bondage I myself designed, my tits swollen in the grip of the ropes, the cruel clamps pinching my nipples, the hose of the pump-up gag dangling in my cleavage, the severity of the straps which bind my arms at my sides.

I wait, feeling the pain at my nipples, remembering how she had to stimulate herself with the dildo because I was helplessly bound, horny and helpless, bound and uncomfortable and helpless. The emphasis is on ‘helpless’, and all I can do is wait and suffer and imagine and suffer and remember and wait for Mistress Melanie to return. I hope she returns….